In this series of posts, we’re looking at one of the most familiar stories Jesus told—the parable of the Prodigal Son. The title is a bit of a misnomer for a couple of reasons. First, the real prodigal in the story isn’t the son so much as it is the Father. The word “prodigal” means lavish or recklessly extravagant, and when you see father’s reaction when his son returns home—the ring, the robe, the fatted calf, the spare-no-expense gala that certainly put a big dent in his wallet—you see his actions are the ones that are worthy of the word “prodigal”. Second—while the story is called the Prodigal Son, it’s really a story about two sons. Most of the time our focus goes towards the younger son, his rebellion, and the father’s elation when he returns home. But almost half of the story is focused on the older son—a young man who was also alienated from his father, but who expressed it very differently. In fact, the story ends with the spotlight shining not on the younger son, but the older one.
Jesus’ purpose in sharing the story is that we might compare and contrast these two sons rather than giving the lion’s share of our consideration to the one who’s lostness is easier to detect. Without a doubt, the younger son’s lostness is obvious. But Jesus’ point is that the older son is every bit as lost; he just expresses it differently. This story expands our understanding of what it means to be lost—to not possess the father’s heart—as well as how we can recognize it.
“Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’ (Luke 15:25-30)
Certainly the elder brother would have known that the day of his younger brother’s return was one of the greatest days in his father’s life. But when it came time for him to go inside and join the celebratory feast—to share his father’s joy—he refused … an act that was every bit as disrespectful and defiant as his younger brother asking for his portion of the inheritance early. His refusal to enter in to the feast essentially said, “I don’t agree with how you’ve chosen to handle things. I don’t respect your headship of this family. If this is how things are going to go around here, I choose not to be a part of them”. Just as, when the younger son returned home, the father went out and welcomed him back, so he now has to go outside and plead with his older son.
The point Jesus is making is that the elder son is every bit as lost as his younger brother; they just expressed it very differently. In fact, it’s interesting that, at the end of the day, it’s the younger son who’s seated at the banquet table and the older son who’s not. The father, in this parable, is a representative of God, and the feast or banquet is symbolic of salvation. The way the story concludes is with the younger son—the immoral, irresponsible one—having a seat at the table. But the seat for the older son—the one who stayed home and was reliable and responsible—is vacant.
The Pharisees, many of whom were in the audience and listening to this story, knew precisely what Jesus was implying. It was a complete reversal of everything they’d ever believed. I can imagine when Jesus told this story and left it at the place He did—with the younger brother on the inside and the elder brother outside—an audible gasp went up. What’s keeping the elder brother outside? He himself gives the reason: “Because I’ve never disobeyed you” (v. 29a). The elder brother is failing to experience the depth and fullness of the father’s love because of his good behavior. He’s been good for all the wrong reasons. It’s not his sin, but his pride, that’s creating the barrier. It’s not his wrongdoing, but his self-righteousness, that’s causing the problem.
The younger son wanted the father’s wealth but not the father. And how did he get what he wanted? He asked for his part of the inheritance early and left. He got out from under his father’s influence and lived it up. By the end of the story, it’s evident the older brother is after the same thing, for he was quite unhappy with how the father chose to handle things. While the younger son’s tack was to take his part of the inheritance and run away, the older brother’s approach was to stay home and be good in the belief doing so would earn him the right to control and direct what his father did with his wealth. As I said, they were both seeking the same thing but going about it in vastly different ways.
So—Jesus’ point is there are two ways to be lost. One is by leaving home and being bad; the other is by keeping the laws and being good. If I can be really good, then God has to answer my prayers. He’s obligated to give me a good life and do things the way I want them done. If that’s the approach you’re taking with God, you may be looking to Him to be your helper … or rewarder … or provider, but you’re not looking to Him to be your Savior. You’re serving as your own Savior. That’s the difference between a Jesus follower and a merely religious person. The religious person obeys God to get control over God or extract things from God. But a true follower obeys for no reason other than a deep love for Him and the desire to have an intimate connection with Him.
The older brother shows us that just because you’re good and hang around the father’s house doesn’t mean you possess his heart. You can be good and still be lost. You can grow old in the faith without growing up in it. In fact, when we decide to take faith seriously, one of two things will happen—we’ll either become more like the father or more like the older brother. And the fact is, in our day, the latter has happened far too often. A lot of people have concluded that Christianity and older brotherness are the same thing. In fact, one of the biggest barriers to people outside the church in our society is their conclusion that the church is full of older brothers. They turn to the church looking to encounter some people who resemble Jesus and they stumble upon a collection of older brothers. Many people who profess Christianity are very elder brotherish in their approach. They go to church regularly … they externally conform to the Bible’s guidelines—at least those that are fairly visible. But it’s all undertaken with an expectation that, because they’ve done that, God owes them. And when this spirit is present, you can pick up on it. In fact, we see it quite clearly in the attitude of the elder brother in the story. Four or five things stand out about him that makes it quite clear that’s the basis from which he’s operating:
He has an anger problem (v. 28). Elder brothers believe if they try hard and live up to God’s standards, He owes them something in return. It’s a very transactional approach. When things don’t work out that way—when things don’t turn out as comfortably or as problem-free as they’d hoped—they get upset. Where they get this idea, I don’t know. If Jesus is the model of our faith and the person we’re to pattern ourselves after, we should know better. He lived a life that displayed a goodness far beyond anything any of us could ever hope to produce —and He suffered terribly. Nevertheless, elder brothers tend to get angry when God doesn’t come through for them the way they think He should.
Their lives are characterized by a joyless, mechanical obedience (“I’ve been slaving for you” – v. 29). Elder brothers tend to obey God as a means to an end. Their obedience is not out of a heart of gratitude; it’s an attempt to manipulate Him and get what they want. When this is our approach, obedience becomes a joyless, slavish thing. Yes—sometimes what God asks of us is very hard. But there’s a big difference between struggling with something difficult because it’s hard and viewing the essence of our connectedness as a perfunctory, dutiful thing that’s void of happiness. Older brothers tend to fall into the latter camp. Their life has a rather somber and gloomy feel to it. It’s void of joy.
In addition, their lives are characterized by a coldness toward younger brother types (“this son of yours” – v. 30). The older brother refuses to own his connection to his younger brother. He disdains him—looks upon him with scorn and contempt. But we really shouldn’t be surprised, for one of the glaring characteristics of elder brothers is their arrogance. Because they feel superior and pride themselves in their purity, they can’t be effective in engaging younger brothers. For they’re not stirred, touched, or moved by their needs. They’re disgusted by them.
They also lack the assurance of their father’s love (“you never threw me a party” – v. 29). When you’re trying to control God through your goodness in order to earn your salvation, you can never be sure if you’ve been good enough. And it’ll show up in very conspicuous ways. For instance, if something goes wrong in your life and you encounter a hardship, you wonder if it’s a punishment —if God’s paying you back for the fact you aren’t living right, or for this or that thing you did in the past for which He’s never settled the score. Another telltale sign is that criticism absolutely devastates you. When your sense of God’s love is fragile and tenuous, you crave the approval of others to bolster your value. And when it doesn’t come—when you receive criticism rather than a sense of endorsement—it eats you up. Plus, there’s the irresolvable guilt. When you mess up, you can’t be sure that you’ve repented deeply enough or sincerely enough, so you repeatedly beat yourself up. When you approach God as an elder brother, you are never sure of your standing with Him. You’re always questioning and plagued by doubt.
And finally, older brothers have an unforgiving, judgmental spirit. One of the things that’s clear from this story is that the elder brother doesn’t want the father to forgive his younger brother. “He should stew in his juices and live with his regret”. Spend some time examining the elder brother and you perhaps get some insight into part of the reason why the younger brother wanted to leave home to begin with. I mean—who’d want to be around an outwardly conforming individual who’s angry, manipulative, judgmental and demonstrates arrogance and pride as a cover for deep-seated insecurity and uncertainty about the father’s love? But that’s precisely what the older brother is.
The thing that makes the elder brother so dangerous is that he’s every bit as lost as his younger brother, but he doesn’t know it. I believe the reason Jesus ends the parable with the focus on the elder brother is to communicate that, of the two, his lostness is the more dangerous spiritual condition. The younger brother—he knew he was alienated from the father. It’s very clear something was amiss that needed to be made right. But the elder brother? He’s clueless! If you were to go up to him and say, “You’ve got a transactional arrangement with God and are going about it all wrong—you’re trying to use God so He’ll be obligated to provide you with a comfortable life”—he’d be offended. Elder brothers don’t go to God and beg for healing from their condition, for they don’t see that they need it. That’s what makes their condition so serious! When you know you’re sick, you go to the doctor. But if you don’t think anything’s wrong, you won’t go. That’s the position the elder brother is in. He’s just as lost and at odds with his father’s heart as his younger brother. But he’s absolutely oblivious to the fact.
The mindset of the elder brother gives us a clear view of the difference between generic religion and true Christianity. Religion works on the notion “I obey, therefore God accepts me”. But Christianity works on the notion, “God accepts me, therefore I obey”—i.e., my obedience is a delightful and voluntary expression of gratitude for what He has done for me. And these two approaches, even though they sound very similar, produce radically different results. The person who’s bought into the former—the religious approach—tends to live a life characterized by anger, joyless compliance, superiority, insecurity, and a condemning spirit. But the person who’s being transformed by the grace of God lives a life increasingly marked by contentment, joy, humility, compassion, and a forgiving spirit.
One of the main features of this story is that, while it obviously condemns the rebellious and unruly lifestyle of the younger brother, it just as powerfully denounces the self-righteous lifestyle of the elder brother. Remember … these words were addressed to tax collectors and sinners—“younger brothers”—as well as Pharisees and teachers of the law—“older brothers”. What Jesus was saying, particularly to the latter group, was, “Would you be open to the possibility that real Christianity is something very different than pious religiosity? Would you consider the fact the path to intimacy with God doesn’t mean you’re going to end up with the pathology of an elder brother? For there’s a big difference between a person who has chosen to voluntarily and freely follow Jesus and an elder brother. And I came to help both of them find their place at the table—not merely those who’ve made destructive choices, messed up, and recognize that they need to get things squared away with God, but also those who’ve been good in the worst sense of the word and ended up outwardly compliant but not anywhere close to reflecting or possessing His heart.
Part of the purpose of this story is to expose elder brothers for what they are. Fact is … the longer we’re a part of the church, the easier it is for us to slip into enter brother mode. My hope—particularly for those of us who have walked with the Lord for quite some time—is that we’d take time to look in the mirror and make sure we don’t see an elder brother staring back.